mark juan


Guess who watched Saloonatics for the twenty-millionth time?

My hand slipped

EDIT: I apologize for the misspelling of “descansco” (I wrote “descano”) in the 5th drawing! I was so tired when I drew these and careless mistakes were made. It’s too late to fix on the actual drawing, but I’ll do my best to fix my mistake here in the captions.

 Sorry, guys, and thank you for calling attention to my error! :P


16 June 1497: Juan Borgia’s corpse is fished out from the Tiber.

He gazes at the cold marble with eyes even icier than the very smooth material. A curious emptiness fills his chest with hollowness. Whatever had he expected he would feel is eluding him at the moment. Had that been relief? Satisfaction? Popular belief would have him silently cheering his brother’s demise -the gold scratched off his lifeless skin, leaving the raw, rotting flesh underneath bared for all to see -for him to see. Damn, he himself had entertained the idea of feeling touching the chords of his own being, that thing universally known as soul. A shard of joy, a stab of melancholy for old time’s sake. He presses his lips together, a small, imperceptible move. A sharp intake of breath, and something does hit him, a recollection blurred by time, colorless and faraway. They had been children together. Once, when life had been hiding its all-consuming needs for later, close enough to feel it, far enough to breath easier, when things were simple and future was something to own, not to conquer. He could see him then, shorter by an half, a tinier version of his grown up self, his toothy little brother, going from smiles to sulk in a heartbeat. Moody, needy, tiny Juan, so near to him in age they could have been twins, so opposite from him in character they might as well have been strangers. And yet. Future was a thing of the living; past, they shared with the dead. Cesare stares at the mortal coil of his first follower, his second in command in his army of three. In this moment alone, he forgets the slights, the unjust praises from his father’s lips, the rivalry, the distance. He can feel there is something there, a breath away from him, lingering in the air, as if tempting him to fill himself with brotherly feelings, a ghost of wasted potential that was dead, therefore lost. His mouth is curling. He feels the skin nearly splitting his mouth open. A grin, a snarl. Future is a thing of the living, past is a shared chest of wonders and dread, but there is nothing but the present. A present where he’s the most beloved son of the Pope of Rome, His future, His family. The owling from his Holy Father’s chest will pass, day by day grief will fade. Lands to conquer, people to make and break. A kingdom for the Family to build. So many things to do, so little time left to think. The logic of it, so simple, a straight line of causes and consequences. And yet, something moves inside the voracious emptiness between heart and stomach: there is no free will in His loving you, you cannot choose to unknow it. Strange enough, it sounds like a familiar voice, yet to be buried in memory. His father’s howling echoes through him in his ears, in his skull. You cannot choose to unknow; you can choose not to feel. Which he happens to be excellent  at.

Borgia Family Fancast: Mark Ryder as Cesare Borgia; David Oakes as Juan Borgia.

I’ve told you already that to be inaccessible does not mean to hide or to be secretive. It doesn’t mean that you cannot deal with people either. A hunter uses his world sparingly and with tenderness regardless of whether the world might be things, or plants, or animals, or people, or power. A hunter deals intimately with his world and yet he is inaccessible to that same world. He is inaccessible because he’s not squeezing his world out of shape. He taps it lightly, stays for as long as he needs to, and then swiftly moves away leaving hardly a mark.
—  Don Juan Matus, Jouney to Ixtlan

i’m not usually one to sit around in a tinfoil hat and make desperate leaps for a fandom ship (with few exceptions* i tend to roll with what the story gives me) but god damn it i believe in stormpilot.  they saved each other in that escape mission and poe gave finn a name and treated him like a valued individual for the first time in finn’s life. and they both were so scared for each other and so relieved and that whole bit the with jacket i mean, come on.

and i’ve said i believe in stormpilot and had people look at me like i was crazy but i believe it, man. i almost never get shipper goggles like this but this one has me like

at all times. 

please anyone: disney, mark hammill, obi juan whoever the fuck u are

just let me be vindicated. let me have the last laugh at the next family xmas when everyone is talking abt the new star wars. let me watch finn and poe live through their chunk of the star wars and be happy together. do it, you cowards.

*exceptions: zutara, janeway and chakotay, barney and robin


Marvel Hip Hop Variants (part 2)

  • All-New Wolverine #1 | Keron Grant | DMX - Flesh of my flesh blood of my blood
  • Doctor Strange #1 | Juan Doe | Dr. Dre - The Chronic
  • Ant-Man #1 | Mark Brooks | Notorious BIG - Ready to Die
  • HOWARD THE DUCK #1 | Juan Doe More | Ol’ Dirty Bastard  Return to the 36 Chambers: The Dirty Version
  • Ms. MARVEL #1 | Jenny Frisson | Lauryn HIll - The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill
  • Uncanny Inhumans #1 | Damian Scott | Outkast - Aquemini
  • Extraordinary X-men | Sanford Greene | De La Soul 3 - Feet High and Rising
  • Squadron Supreme #1 | Mike Del Mundo | Wu Tang Clan - 36 Chambers
  • Sam Wilson Captain America #1 | Mahmud Asrar | A$AP Rocky - Long Live A$AP
  • Contest Of Champions #1 | Denys Cowan | GZA - Liquid Swords

here’s the link for pt 1 pt 3